


Baby Burn

by darklittlestory



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Exes to Lovers, M/M, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, Thorki Week 4, old man thorki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklittlestory/pseuds/darklittlestory
Summary: Middle aged Loki reminisces about his time as a sugar baby, but the retelling leaves out the heartache. And then he reaches out.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 133





	Baby Burn

Loki’s eyes sparkle in the light of the patio bulbs, bright irises framed doubly by thick glasses and handsome wrinkles that deepen as he smiles.

“Loki’s story is the best,” Darcy announces to the little group.

“‘Course it is,” Sif says, blowing smoke out through the side of her mouth. She offers the joint to Loki.

He defers, saying, “I’ll never civilize you children,” then produces a slim gold vape pen.

“Well?” Val asks. 

“What?” Loki asks, vape in one hand and whiskey in the other.

Val rolls her eyes. “Your one-that-got-away. We deserve a Loki story. Or is it an L.L. Smythe story?” 

Loki groans. “I’m off the clock. And Darce, honey? I hate you.” He kicks his editor playfully and runs a hand through his silver streaked hair.

Darcy blows him a red, red kiss. “You wish. Fine. I’ll tell it.”

“Ooh. Yes, spill, please,” Sif says.

Darcy refills sangrias and whiskeys. “So our old man here,” she says, “was once a sugar baby.”

“Hot,” Val decrees.

Heimdall chuckles as he takes the joint. "Yeah, I can see that."

“Wait!” Darcy squeals, “That is super not the best part. Wait til I tell you who it was.”

“Oh, no. No no no no no. We will not be doing that,” Loki says, any wry amusement drying up.

“Now you have to," Sif says. 

Loki shoots Heimdall a look. "Rescue me from these horrible children." 

Heimdall chuckles. "Sorry, my friend. I'm with my nosy little sister. I'm intrigued."

"You've gotta stop calling us children, Lokes," Val says. She pours him another whiskey and kisses him on top of his head.

"Hush, fetus," Loki winks. Daddy's going to tell you a story."

  
***

He edits heavily. He smooths and polishes with lies when necessary to make the retelling pretty. To make the ending bittersweet.

He suggests a light affair trailing off, like spun sugar thinning to nothing.

  
***

"No, it's not hysterical bullshit, Thor! We both know what you signed up for. Who you  _ bought!" _ He's undermining his point by screaming, tears boiling down his face.

"Loki, please I—"

"No, Thor. Enough. Enough!" Loki sniffles. I'm not standing here and being soothed by comforting lies anymore. You may have convinced yourself this is something more than it is, but I won't be made a fool. This can't continue."

"Loki," Thor pleads, and oh, he looks the part. Eyes red and mouth trembling. "Please don't do this, baby."

"There it is, right there. What you really want,” Loki says, and he walks out the door.

  
***

"Ah!" Val says. "I love it. And I want to see the guy who can lift  _ you _ off the ground like that."

Loki laughs and unfolds his tall frame. He's built the same at fifty three as at twenty six—tall and wiry but solid. He's indoors filling a bucket with more ice and hears shrieks and shouts from his veranda.

"Thor Odinson?" Sif tells when he returns. 

"Odinson Global, Odinson Global World Renewal fucking philanthropist looks like fucking Zeus Thor fucking Odinson?" Val says, slurring a little at the edges of that mouthful.

Loki sits down and takes off his glasses so he can throw his head into his face properly.

"Yes," he squeezes out through his fingers.

Heimdall says, "Huh. Did not see that coming."

***

It's 2am, and the girls have thankfully moved on to helping Loki brainstorm short story plots to hilarious results. 

Then when he's lulled into a false sense of calm and off his guard from another hour and a half of drinks and weed, Darcy says, "So, you should totally get in touch with your ex."

Loki rolls his eyes.

"How would he even get through to Thor Odinson now anyway, Darce?" Sif asks.

Loki must look guilty, because Val immediately says, "Wait. What? Have you been in touch?"

"No. I absolutely have not been in touch."

Sif eyes him thoughtfully. "Then he has, because you are, for once, too drunk to lie."

Loki says, "Damn."

  
***

He opens the email from his saved folder. The text swims, and he closes one eye.

"Loki, this address may not be good anymore, but you're pretty much un-findable online. You might see who this is from and delete this immediately…"

He slams the laptop lid closed and goes to bed. Then he gets up and drinks a full glass of water and looks at it once more, goes back to bed. This time it sticks and he falls asleep.

When he wakes, his first thought is gratitude for having the good sense not to have had maudlin dreams.

His second is the need for aspirin, coffee, and greasy dinner food.  
  


***

  
Loki’s at Volstagg’s working his way through an omelet and starting then deleting opening lines of an email in one tab while he googles the absolute hell out of Thor Odinson in  five others.

It’s ridiculous. Loki already knows everything; he’s followed Thor embarrassingly well over the decades. Five years ago, he had lost a week of sleep to the news of Thor’s cancer and then hadn’t fully shaken the anxiety until photos had started circulating of Thor with his thick, white hair growing in a flattering short style that suited him just as much as the long golden mane had when Loki had known him.

But he can’t write this without a last paranoid check for headlines like “Lifelong Bachelor Thor Odinson’s Surprise Marriage to Beautiful Young Starlet” or “Billionaire Odinson Heir Settles Down at 71 Years Young!” 

All he finds is Thor being his annoyingly perfect self giving TED Talks and getting photographed with adorable animals and an interview in Men’s Health about Thor’s sustainable diet and his (thank the gods) still being in remission.

Hilde fills Loki’s coffee mug, and he thanks her.    
  
She laughs, “Whatever’s got your panties in a bunch, just get it over with.”

“Sound advice. I hate it.” He says. He bites his lip. “Fine, fuck it. Let’s do this.”

***

He feels like a nervous kid, which is exactly how he felt at nineteen waiting to meet a thirty-seven year old Thor. His annoyance at feeling like a self-conscious teenager compounds his anxiety. He’s glad he chose the spot, though. He’s familiar enough to be at ease, but not a regular who’d have to make conversation or answer cute questions if he shows up first.

He’s determined not to show up first.

They’d decided to meet at eight, and at twenty-five minutes after, Loki adjusts the lines of his jacket, tucks his glasses into his breast pocket, realizes he’s being ridiculous and replaces them, smooths back his hair, and finally walks in.

The host guides him to a table near the back, and there’s Thor, candlelit and glowing. Without the warmth of blond in his hair, he’s still golden. Tanned, healthy skin is softened with age and Loki thinks of clothing worn to softness and aches to touch Thor’s face.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says.

Thor stands, and pulls out Loki’s chair. He runs his arms down Loki’s, and takes his hands in Thor’s large, warm ones. Soft, so very soft. 

“No, you’re not,” Thor says, fondly. “You’re still a brat, aren’t you?”

Loki blushes, to his ears. He can’t remember the last time his skin burned this way. Thor hasn’t let go of his hands.

He turns his face down. Thor touches his chin, tilts it up. His eyes are wet. Deep blue gems under thick glass. 

“Loki, let me see you,” he says, and his voice is thick. “Goddamn, it was great to hear from you.” 

He looks at Loki like he’s studying him, and Loki’s conscious of every line he’s seen in every mirror in every intervening year since he walked away from Thor. Of the deepening of his eye sockets, the shadows beneath. He should have colored his hair. Should have left off his glasses. He should never have done this. 

“How have you become even more beautiful?” Thor asks as they finally sit, and Loki barks an awkward, nervous laugh.

“Well I’m not exactly your type anymore, am I?” Loki says, aiming for a wry, self-deprecating tone and sounding utterly, horribly pitiful.

“Oh, Loki, are you still holding on to that?  _ You _ were my type. You were always my type.”

“When I was twenty two, maybe. I  _ was _ gorgeous back then,” he tries to laugh.

Thor looks stricken. He takes Loki’s hands again. Thumbs soothing over Loki’s knuckles. 

“Loki, you broke my heart. I thought the world of you, but I could never get that through to you.”

Loki takes back a hand and wipes away tear. 

  
***

The sheets are so decadent Loki immediately decides he’s never leaving the bed. He’s right about the feel of Thor’s skin, equally soft. He’s memorizing the new topography of Thor’s face, the smooth pink cheeks that give way to years of his easy smiles etched around his eyes and mouth. 

Thor can’t keep his hands out of Loki’s hair, longer now than it had been when he was young and left to curl naturally. 

Their eyes and lips keep meeting, reacquainting and tasting memories.

“I’ve never really stopped thinking about this,” Loki admits after a long, luxurious kiss.

“Same here,” Thor says. He buries his face against Loki’s shoulder, pulls him in tight.

"God, I've missed you, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the Old Men Thorki prompt for #thorkiweek4 on Twitter. I'm @darklittlestory. I ran with it a little and decided to throw in a middle aged Loki.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe & well. <3


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